


Haphephobia

by RedXD



Series: Hermit Fear Headcanons [2]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Beef is a good boy, Etho needs a hug but dont give him one please, Haphephobia, Headcanon, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Oneshot, Panic Attacks, Phobias, Random side chick is not, fears, mentions of vomiting, unedited, unless its an air hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:35:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24769387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedXD/pseuds/RedXD
Summary: Don't touch Etho.
Relationships: Etho & Daniel M. | VintageBeef, Etho/Daniel M. | VintageBeef, Though its barely in there
Series: Hermit Fear Headcanons [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1791832
Comments: 18
Kudos: 217





	Haphephobia

**Author's Note:**

> so uh i have a many of different hermit phobia headcanons and this is one!!
> 
> ive already done a oneshot about my hc that bdubs has nyctophobia and i have way more than just two
> 
> i have one for mumbo, grian, tango, x, joe, cleo, and obv etho n bdubs
> 
> lemme know if youd be interested in more fear hc oneshots

**Haphephobia**

_Noun_

An intense fear or discomfort of being touched or touching.

—

He’s not supposed to feel like this.

There are many things in his life he is unsure about, but he’s certain about this. He knows this isn’t normal.

Grian, for example. He hugs people all the time. He touches people’s shoulders, or leans against Mumbo. He likes _touch_.

Etho isn’t like that. He’s noticed… something about himself.

He hates touch. It’s scary and he feels overwhelmed. When someone hugs him, he feels anxiety wash over him and he feels powerless because he can’t do anything to get the anxiety to stop. He can’t risk being rude and telling the person to stop, but he also hates every second.

Years passed where he never noticed it. He thought everyone was like him. That everyone felt uncomfortable and afraid and weak when people touched them. That despite that pain and misery, they accepted it anyway.

So he accepted it too.

When his parents hugged him, he’d inhale sharply, but hug back despite the anxiety in his stomach growing like weeds.

Doctor visits became nightmares he didn’t understand. If it’s normal to hate touch, why’d he get nightmares? Unless the nightmares are normal?

At fourteen, he finally decided to look it up. To check… if maybe he wasn’t normal.

Apparently he wasn’t.

From that moment on, the fear and anxiety started to grow even more. It grew into its own person, a shadow of Etho. A monster that only he can feel, and it will always be attached to him. It reminds him of how weird he is for being this way.

When someone hugs him, brushes his arm, _anything_. The monster whispers in his ear, reminds him of how yet again he is being controlled by something else. How no matter what he does, he is always in someone else’s hand, he’s always feeling his skin burn from the ghost of a touch. There isn’t any actual physical pain, yet his head and stomach fills with burning flames as the monster over his back roars with laughter at the mere sight of Etho crumbling even further.

But it truly went downhill in highschool.

In freshman year, he met a girl in his first period who talked to him despite his quiet nature. They spoke back and forth most days. She’d do most of the talking for him and he’d chime in every now and again.

He felt like he had a true friend in her, she gave him space without him even having to ask for it and he listened to her.

It was a connection he’d never known he needed so much.

Whenever his parents were extra huggy and sorts, he’d distract his monster by talking with her.

The distraction was thoroughly helpful.

Until about three months into their friendship.

It was winter break and he received a text from her asking if he wanted to go see a movie. He thought nothing of it, it’d simply be him going to the movies with his friend.

How naive he was.

They went inside and sat down. Her hand brushed his multiple times in the movie and halfway through she simply grasped his hand and didn’t let go. The monster laughed and mocked him as he grew sicker and sicker.

He didn’t say anything, not wanting to upset his friend. But inside he could feel his brain pull apart every second he was being touched. His eyes were hot with a stinging pain as he stared at the screen and tried to close his eyes as little as possible. He was on the verge of tears with how much anxiety and sick fear was swirling in his stomach.

The movie ended and they both left the theatre, walking towards the bus stop. They both sat down, the next bus not appearing for ten minutes.

With his hand finally free, he held it close to him, almost protective of it as if he’d almost lost it.

In a matter of moments he felt a hand on his shoulder and he was being turned towards her. She rushed forward and kissed him.

All the other ways he was ever touched were nothing compared to the utter hatred he felt when she kissed him.

He didn’t return anything, simply backing up on reflex and using the scarf he wore to cover his mouth. He felt his monster grow at least five sizes larger as it laughed at him. His stomach burned, intestines covered in hot lava. He couldn’t breathe and he stood up. Before his friend could even react, he turned around and sprinted back to the movie theatre. He went inside and shoved himself in a stall.

And then he vomited. All the burning insides and popcorn poured out like a thick soup. He struggled to breathe. His head repeated the moment over and over and each second longer he thought about it, the more he couldn’t seem to even take in a single breath. His vision blurred with tears.

Dark spots rained down onto his blurry sight, red pains numbing his entire body until all he could hear and feel and see was darkness, hands, and the forced kiss.

It made him curl in on himself on the bathroom floor of the theatre. He stayed there for half an hour, simply trying to stable himself and calm down. His memory was foggy, remembering there being far away knocks now and then and how he simply whispered im okay thanks to himself each time.

After he could finally see and breathe, he tried to stand. After a few tries, he actually managed something. But when he opened the stall door slightly, he was met with a stranger standing out the door worriedly.

It was a teenager a year or so older than him, one with brown hair and a bit of stubble already that made him look way more mature than Etho looked with his pasty skin and messy hair.

The teen looked at him in concern and wordlessly handed him a bottle of water. One that they sold alongside other food and drinks at the theatre.

  
Etho thanked him quietly and took the offering, but halfway through he realized that:

The other teen had most likely gone and bought him the water despite not even knowing him.

It warmed his heart which was a warm welcome from the sick fear and pain.

Finishing the water, Etho rushed to hand the other teen the amount it cost, however the taller male smiled and pushed Etho’s hands back with an airy gesture, but not actually touching him.

“Keep your money.”

Etho appreciated the comforting and generous male already, smiling as bright as he could muster and yet again thanking him wordlessly.

He splashed his face in the sink a few times, the other male there beside him offering paper towels when he finished.

Afterwards, he nodded in thanks and left to catch the next bus.

His phone was filled with messages from her.

But he ignored them.

When they got back to school a week later, she was accusing him of ‘pretending to like her just to break her heart’ and due to her popularity, it was only a matter of days before any possible connections he had were gone.

He didn’t try to explain himself.

He didn’t want to. He didn’t have to. He shouldn’t _need_ to. She kissed him without his permission let alone his correct feelings in mind.

No longer having a comfort friend, he grew distant from everyone including his parents. He started to wear a black face mask, covering his face. He wore gloves and long sleeves, alongside a headband around his head.

His only friend was his monster.

Even it was silent. No one touched him, not even talking to him. As lonely as he felt, he at least didn’t have to feel the fear and anxiety that came with people touching him… as bad.

He noticed how anytime he thought about his first ‘kiss’ in freshman year, or thought about his parents hugging him… he just felt afraid. It wasn’t even happening, he was simply thinking about it and it made him feel terrified that someone was going to touch him. Anyone, someone, that no matter what he did to try to lessen the amount of contact, he’d be touched or hugged or something in someway.

It was a lurking thought in the back of his mind _constantly._

And now he’s in college.   
  


He feels number than he ever has before.

Etho cracks open the door to his dorm and immediately freezes.

_Why do I recognize my roommate?_

A guy with bright nazy eyes sits on one of the two beds with a grin, “Hi!”

He eyes Etho once over and then turns to look at the bed opposite of his, he nods towards it, “That’s yours.”

Etho nods, and sets his things down on his bed. His relationship with his parents is so far away that he just drove himself here and is moving in by himself, adjusting to college life as he does everything… alone.

His roommate bounces to his feet, “Need any help getting settled in?”

Glancing at the other, Etho shrugs, “You don’t have to.”

The other raises an eyebrow, “That’s why I offered,” He walks to the door, giving Etho space before following him. They walk side by side, about two feet between them.

“What’s your name roomie?”

He pulls at his mask, making sure it covers his mouth and nose, “I’m Etho. You?”

Clicking his tongue, his roommate smiles, “I’m Beef. Though technically we’ve met before.”

That causes him to freeze, he stops walking, glancing at Beef, “What…?”

Beef rubs his neck awkwardly, “Well I mean, you probably don’t remember me, but you were in a few of my classes in high school and well- I also gave you free water one time at the movie theatre and well...”

Etho’s head supplies a foggy memory. The panic attack after he had his first kiss.

“Oh… You helped me that day, It’s been so long I forgot.”

His eyes soften, “Uh it’s nice to see you again.”

The other’s cheeks darken, “You too! I only recognized you cause I mean, you _were_ pretty well known in high school and-”

Swallowing down the rush of insecurity, he rubs his arm, “What? My reputation for being a heartbreaker or my reputation for being a freak who pukes after getting kissed?”

Beef’s eyes widen and he stares in shock, “Nonono- I mean yes- BUT I- I don’t believe those rumors, I mean you just seemed quiet and I mean haphephobia doesn’t make someone a freak-I mean-” He gulps, laughing awkwardly. “Okay so maybe I shouldn’t have started with the reputation thing.”

Etho purses his lips under his mask, “Haphephobia?”

That causes the other to perk up, “Yeah? It’s the intense fear of being touched.. You have it don’t you? I mean you always avoid contact with people and in chemistry, you recoiled when that substitute teacher patted your shoulder…”

He drifts off as Etho begins to laugh to himself.

“I didn’t even know there was a word for it… I just thought- There’s other people like me?”

Beef nods slowly, “I mean I think it’s a pretty rare phobia, but there’s gotta be at least a good few people out there for it to have a name.”

Etho smiles to himself and glances at Beef, “Uh… Thanks. Again. I didn’t know…”

The other grins, “Well now you do.” He starts to walk again, “But seriously, we should probably be helping you settle in.”

“Right right.”

For the first time since its creation, the monster shrunk three sizes down.


End file.
